hot, play the street Twelve month, seven day a week, cat, now, we here Blood's heart, fuck bird's art, bitch slap retard Sprint fast, wind up in mass
I drop, y'all gon' realize it's all real Bein left for dead, tied up, smoke 'til I was dried up So high up, seem like the sky ducked, high what? Life
four clips, chips in the Benzy Forty-inch, Cuban heavy, I been down Can't come up, shine from sundown to sun-up Some clown'll run up, yappin his mouth
York City They wildin, Shaolin, New York City And crooks in, Brooklyn, New York City And problems, Harlem, New York City Representin the Bronx, New York
up Let's go, I got the chorus You ready, New York City we run the motherfuckin building, pardon me Take it, take it back B I messed up because I'm talking
'all bring the scale so we can weight this It better be pure, hope you ain't got a birdie mix Hey yo, put it up there, and make sure it's all 36 I hope
in fact, this is where it's at cause lyrics I've provided is about to swing the bat and shake up the levels from New York to Montego It's all about the
up to Heaven Time slowed to a crawl early morning September eleventh Steel crumbling frames, the scales of justice are decimated Hate ignites the flames, New York